Magi Of the Wind Seeker
by TheTacoMan
Summary: Tells the tale of Amecylia, a night elf druid given the oppertunity, along with a paladin named Ishtvahn and his friends, to hunt down and destroy the burning legion warlock that seeks to free the wind lord: Thundereen
1. Chapter 1

**Magi of the Wind seekerSteven Bogos  
**

**PART 1**

**Chapter 1:  
**A burning arrow sears past Jakes head. The small hut behind him erupts into flame. _Dammit_, he thinks to himself, _how could we let this happen_? The acolytes of the wind seeker had attacked his town in the dead of the night, catching everyone unprepared. _It should be ok_, he thinks, _as long as Rasmord isn't here we'll be able to fend them off_. He forms the image of a panther in his mind; its sleek, speedy muscular body will be just what he needs. His druidic powers consume him as he begins to shift his shape into that of the giant cat.  
'My brothers!!' he yells 'Cleanse this place of these cursed legion warriors, they may have taken us unprepared but without their leader they are no match for our druidic might!'  
A mighty uproar falls upon the town as the night elf druids stop fleeing, and start fighting. But just as suddenly as the attack began, it stops.

'Ha ha ha ha ha, heh heh heh heh heh, HA HA HA HA HA!" a cackle of maniacal laughter falls over the camp.

'Do you really think I would assault the place where the bottom half of the bindings of the wind seeker lay and not be there personally? For shame Jake, I thought your knew better than that,' a dark, raspy undead voice comes from the crowd.  
Then he arises, an evil agent of the scourge, servant to the demonic burning legion, Rasmord, undead warlock of the Wind Seeker cause. He lets out a piercing howl of terror, forcing all the druids around him to collapse in pain, and as they do, his demonic and undead servants start to cut them down where they lay.  
'NO!' yells Jake, 'Stop this, leave them alone, they have nothing you need'  
'Ahhh my friend, but **you** do. Give me your half of the bindings or I'll wipe out every single night elf in this village,' comes Rasmord's foul demand.  
Jake is at a loss as what to do. He can't give Rasmord the bindings, he wrestled them from the dead, molten hands of Ragnaros, the fire lord's lieutenant: Garr, and in the hands of the evil undead warlock he would be unstoppable.  
'Run' says a voice close to Jake, 'Take the bindings and run, and don't worry about us.'  
It is Tobias, Jake's closest friend and one of the finest druids in the village.  
Jake hesitates, considering the offer.  
'What are you doing!? Take the bindings and run! Run! He cannot get his hands on those bindings!!' Tobias urges  
Deciding that he would extract his revenge on the warlock in any way that he can, Jake shifts his shape into the impossibly fast form of a cheetah and runs.  
'WHAT! DON'T LET HIM ESCAPE!' He hears Rasmord bellow.  
The undead and demonic forces turn to chase Jake, but the determined druids of the village have risen, seeming to have one last mission, to protect Jake. They stop the warlock's forces dead in their tracks. As Jake runs through the village he hears the crying of a night elf baby. It was Tobias's baby daughter, Amecylia. _I cant save the others, but I can damn well save that baby_, he thinks to himself as he picks her up carefully in his jaw. As Jake reaches the border of the village he hears something: The steady clump clump clump of a galloping horse. He looks back to see Rasmord, riding atop his demonic mount, the dread steed, slowly gaining on him.  
'You will not leave this place alive!' he bellows at Jake. Muttering a warlock incarnation, he raises his hands and Jake feels searing pain shoot through his body. But he presses on. Rasmord continues his incarnations as Jake attempts to escape. Then he is stopped. He turns around to see Tobias, panting for breath, having just called upon the powers of the trees to use their roots to grasp the flaming legs of Rasmord's mount. Jake sees his opportunity and runs, he runs as fast as he can. H leaves the comforting, embrace of the trees and plants of moon glade, the druid's sanctuary, and enters the nearby furbolg tunnel. He runs through, wanting to get as far away from the warlock as possible. He exits to winter spring on the other side of the tunnel, a beautiful, snow covered region of Azeroth. He continues running, warlock curses and spells still affecting him, and draining him of his life force.

The last thing the brave night elf remembers is reaching a human home; he drops the baby on its doorstep, and shifts himself back into his original form. Drawing his bottom half of the bindings of the wind seeker from his bag, he places it in the baby's hands. With his last ounce of strength, he bashes his fist on the door of the house, then falls down dead, as the warlock spells take their final toll on him

**24 years later  
**

Chapter 2: 

'Amecylia! AMECYLIA! Where are you?? High commander Morgan wants to speak to you,' the call of Martha Patrick, respected human priest of the city of storm wind, falls across the city. Martha and her husband Gregor had been the ones living at the house that night, a holiday house they had built in winter spring, and had taken Amecylia in and raised her as their own. When she was finally old enough, she had learned the truth as to what happened to her village, and what those strange bindings that she had clutched since she was a baby were. The undead cult of the Wind seeker, led by the most powerful warlock in all of Azeroth, Rasmord the Doom bringer, had set out to find both halves of the bindings of the wind seeker, and use them to summon the mighty wind god Thundereen to do their bidding. The first half, held by the powerful druid Jake Croulette of the cenarion circle druids had escaped Rasmord's grasp. The second half had been bloodily wrestled from Nagi Marzetta, the dwarven warrior of the hinterlands who had been burdened with the bindings when he and his dwarven brothers had slain the dire fire lord, Barron Gheddon, 20 years after his initial failure to take Jake's bindings. The keeper of the remaining half of the bindings is now a single night elf woman. Although tall for her age, Amecylia had shorter ears than an average night elf, giving her the impression of being short. She had the pale purple skin of her father and a head full of blue hair that ran down the sides of her head. She was dressed in her traditional druid raiment, wild heart, with long feathery shoulders and a sturdy leather kilt. Resting upon her back was the Rod of the ogre magi, which she had received as a gift from the ogres of dire maul long ago. She has sworn to extract her painful revenge on the warlock that ravaged her town.

'Coming mother!' she yells from across the park at storm wind. Being a night elf, she spent a lot of her time at the park rather than the small confined city house of her foster parents. When she was not at home, she was more often than none training with the druids of the cenarion circle, at least, the scattered few that were left after the attack of their encampment.  
'What's up?' she asks.  
'It's the High Commander; he wants to speak to you immediately. It has to do with, him,' Martha informs her.  
Shifting herself into her travel form of a cheetah, Amecylia swiftly runs down the streets to the church of Stormwind.  
'You called, commander?' Amecylia asks as she swift shifts back into her night elf form upon the steps of the church  
'Amecylia,' comes Morgan's reply 'We have news on Rasmord. He's been spotted in the eastern plague lands, and according to the folk up there, he's been plotting something in Scholomance.'  
'You want me to go up there?' Amecylia asks  
'Not by yourself,' Morgan replies, 'I will send a paladin warrior with you and he will assemble a five man team. Any more than five men would be too dangerous in the small halls of Scholomance. You will assault the forsaken school and find out any information about Rasmord.'  
'Very well commander, may I ask who this paladin will be?' Amecylia enquires.  
'That would be me,' says a voice from behind Commander Morgan  
'Ah yes! Right on time, Amecylia, meet Sir Ishtvahn of Tirisfal. He is a brave paladin warrior that fought in the battle of Thereamore, where he served under Admiral Proudmoore as a member of the Kul Tiras navy. He also has rather Erm, _extensive_ knowledge of the scourge (Morgan raises an eyebrow to Ishtvahn as he says this). If anyone knows undead, it's him,' Morgan tells her.  
'My, such beauty, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance,' Ishtvahn steps out from behind the commander. He is a tall, fearsome looking man. He has dark black hair that looked like it had never seen the likes of a comb. His face was like a ravaged cliff face, covered in stubble, looking tired, yet strong, and across his left cheek marked a deep scar of a previous battle. He was dressed in the paladin traditional armour, light forge, with a few exceptions. He wore the cape of a sergeant in the Alliance army, and his shoulder pads were not those of light forge, but of the mighty warrior armour set, Valour. Upon his back was the blackhand doomsaw, a weapon he had wrested from the cold dead hands of Rend Blackhand himself, the false Orc Warcheif of the horde that had made his hideout deep within black rock spire. It was not quite a sword, but not quite a pole arm; it was basically what its name describes it as, a big thick saw.  
'It, it is an honour to be working with you sir,' Amecylia said and bowed in respect for the mighty paladin

'Please rise, spare me the formalities. I assume Morgan has filled you in on what we must do?' Asks the Bold paladin  
'Yes he has,' came the night elf's reply  
'Well then,' exclaims Ishtvahn, 'Lets not dilly-dally around here. Our first crew members is deep within the demon infested blasted lands, and we are to get going immediately,'  
'Yes, you must move quickly. Good luck on your mission soldiers, and may the light be with you,'  
with that, the two adventurers left the cathedral and wandered into the streets of Stormwind.  
'Well need some horses, there are some steeds in the stable that will be of use,' Ishtvahn tells Amecylia  
When they get to the stable, Ishtvahn pays the stableman for their horses, 160 of his hard earned gold pieces  
'Well, we better be off!' states Ishtvahn, and with that they both mounted their steeds and set off towards the war torn blasted lands  
**THE BLASTED LANDS:**

**Chapter 3:**  
'I do not like this place,' Amecylia comments as they sneak past the horde guards in the swamp of sorrows and cross the border into the blasted lands.  
'Tell me about it,' Ishtvahn replies, 'Why he spends his time here I have no idea. Keep in mind it gets worse.'  
The blasted lands were just that, blasted lands. It is where the dark portal itself is situated, the evil entity that linked the world of Azeroth with the war torn wasteland of Outland, and thus was the first victim of the burning legion when they came to this land. Now it is nothing but a dry, barren wasteland, scorpid and vulture scavengers inhibit the entrance, and deeper within the cursed land is the Tainted Scar, home to the feared Lord Kazzak and his demonic minions.  
'I hope Kazzak isn't around, that would cause some trouble,' Ishtvahn says as they enter the eerie darkness of the tainted scar.  
'Who is this, Kazzak?' Amecylia asks.  
'Only one of the most powerful demons to roam this land. He is said to have one thousand times the power of the dread lord Varimathras.' Varimathras is the guardian of Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, the banshee queen of the forsaken undead.  
'Now lets see, he usually hangs around the altar of storms, it should be this way,' Ishtvahn tells the druid.  
They arrive at the altar to find it abandoned.

'Where the hell could he be? He's usually around here and…' THWAK!  
Ishtvahn is interrupted mid-sentence by the smack of a felguard's blade knocking him off his horse. Felguards, The guardians of the burning legion. Massive demons standing at least twice the height normal man. Bright orange skin covers their body except for their blue, armour plated chests and faces. Big thick spikes come out of their shoulders to match the felguard's weapon of choice, a long pole arm, supposedly made out of human bones. This particular felgaurd had spotted the intruders and decided to make an example of them. Ishtvahn scrambles to his feet but is too late, the felgaurd delivers a mighty kick to his head, which sends him flying back onto the rocks. Amecylia, unnoticeable to the felgaurd, morphs herself into her high damaging panther form. She jumps up at the felgaurd, but the felguard's reflexes get the best of her as he slashes across her side with his pole arm. Falling to the ground she morphs back into her night elf form in order to repair the damage. But while she is doing this, she is impervious to the felgaurd. He raises his pole arm above Amecylia, prepares to thrust it down and… THWACK!!  
The felguard falls to the down dead, a single burning arrow imbedded in the demon's head. The archer steps out and extends a hand out to Amecylia, still lying on the ground.  
'Greetings, young night elf, I am Costanzus, and who might I have the pleasure of meeting?' he asks

'I… I… I'm Amecylia,' Amecylia spluttered, still shocked and awed from the attack and her rescue.

'Costanzus old buddy!' Ishtvahn gets up on his feet, still slightly dazed from the felgaurd attack, 'I was wondering where the hell you were!'  
Costanzus stood 6 feet tall, which is average size for a night elf. The effects of battle had taken a toll on him, making his face look old and scared. It didn't help the fact that he was born with white hair, it covered his head and fell down his back stopping just above his belt; it made him look like an elder when he was really not much older than Ishtvahn. He was wearing light chain mail armour, the breastplate and tunic of the beastalkers, a sacred set of armour forged by ancient hunters. In his hand he held the bow of searing arrows, a bow capable of igniting arrows shot from it. Costanzus had received this bow as a gift from his father, who had now passed from this world. He also had dual axes holstered at his side, the 'Dawns Edges' as he called them, having learned how to craft them from the Argent Dawn, an organisation bent on eliminating the scourge from the world of Azeroth.  
'Well when I saw the felgaurd scout coming, I thought I'd bring him down for some food, Felgaurds make good steaks you know,' Costanzus says

'Well if you can layoff the felgaurd steaks for a while, I've got a proposition for you, and I think you will like it,' Ishtvahn says  
Costanzus pulls out his hunting knife and stabs it into the felguard's flesh  
'We'll discuss it over dinner,' he says.

A small campfire in the middle of the Altar of Storms is the only light in the night-blackened tainted scar.  
'So,' said Costanzus 'What is this "Proposition" of yours?'  
'These demons that you hunt everyday do you hunt them for a reason?' asks Ishtvahn  
'Ishtvahn,' says Costanzus, 'You know that the burning legion wiped out my entire village and I swore revenge on every demon in this land. I once had a shot at Kazak's ungodly head but I failed, and now I spend my days slaying his lesser minions. One day that swine will return and I will slay him on my family's honour.'  
'What if I was to offer you the chance to slay one of the most powerful warlocks of the legion? One who seeks the power of the god of wind himself,' proposes Ishtvahn.  
'Someone that powerful, you could only mean Rasmord!' exclaims the hunter,

'Yes,' continues Ishtvahn, 'Come with us and I will give you the chance to destroy Rasmord,'  
'You, you know where he is?' questions Costanzus

'Yes,' replies the paladin, 'I have been given direct orders from high commander Morgan to seek out a party and slay Rasmord in his hideout at Scholomance'  
'Well, three of us is hardly a party, who else did you have in mind?' asked Costanzus

'I've got a dwarven friend that owes me a favour, for starters,' says Ishtvahn

'Oh no, not him,' groans Costanzus  
'We'll leave in the morning, hopefully we can get there before he is stone drunk,' says Ishtvahn  
Amecylia just looks on at the scene in confusion 'What are you talking about Ishtvahn?' she asks

'You'll find out when we get to the hinterlands.'

**THE HINTERLANDS:**

**Chapter 4:**

A few hours later, the brave party arrive at Aerie Peak, the Dwarven outpost hidden deep within the troll-ridden woods of the hinterlands. Ishtvahn and his increasing party pay the wyren master for his services and head straight for the local pub.  
'Oh Ishtvahn, I 'avent seen you in a while, whut brins you 'round 'ere?' exclaims Lucina, the barmaid at the local bar

'Greetings Lucia, I've come looking for an old friend,' Ishtvahn tells her  
'Oh ay. He aint here laddie. E got all riled up 'bout them trolls, says they keep killin' the deliverymen that bring up his booze. You know 'ow he is without his booze ay?' explains Lucia

'Oh that's just great, I guess we'll have to go all the way out to Reventusk to get the blighter' groans Costanzus

The trio saddle up on some of the finest hinterlands ram mounts and make their way through the wilderness to get to Reventusk village, the resident horde town of the area. As they arrive they notice a silence, there are no monsters of animals wandering around anymore, as if they had all been slain in this area.

'This doesn't look good,' says Amecylia, after seeing a troll with it's own hand axe imbedded into it's head.

'What do you think?' asks Ishtvahn

'Definitely looks like his work,' replies Costanzus

'It's not like him to just up and slay an entire village, I'm surprised that he was able to, these trolls are not the same as the inexperienced, sheltered trolls of Kalimdor.'  
'That's cause he couldn do it mon, we trolls know how to handle ourselves,' came a voice from behind the trees. Six trolls stepped out from their hiding spots to encircle the adventuring party

'Hmph,' exclaims Ishtvahn 'I knew that stupid dwarf was always too hot headed,'

'No more talking mon, come with us and youse wont get hurt, as much' says the troll from before, having revealed himself to the party. If he was standing tall he would easily tower over them, but his slouching stature forced him to be no taller than the night elf Amecylia. He had light, almost fluoro green skin, was dressed in tribal leather garments, and his face was covered in tribal blue war paint. One of his tusks had been broken off in battle, but the other one protruded far into the air.

'I suppose we should lay down our arms and surrender,' suggests Ishtvahn

'Might as well,' agrees Costanzus as he lays down his bow

'What are you doing? We must fight our way out! For the alliance we do battle with…' Amecylia's complaints are cut short as the strong, gauntleted hand of Ishtvahn smacks into her neck and sends her into a deep sleep

'Sorry Amecylia, but It's for the best' he apologizes

'Don make any smart moves mon,' warns the broken tusked troll as he escorts them into the village

'Bloody damn trolls, if only id've 'ad me blunderbuss on me, I coulda blown that ugly looking bastard's face off. It's not like me ta lose, I just couldnta halp meself when they're commin at me five at a time,' a deep, dwarven voice mutters from the bottom of a pit. The pit was about six meters deep and no more than two meters in diameter. The roof was made of bamboo sticks tied together to resemble a grid. It was hinged on one side so one could 'open' it up and throw down food or other people.

'How the heck am I suppose to get outta this place now!' the dwarf yells, kicking the skull of a nearby skeleton, 'Don't wanna end up like ol' bones 'ere.'

Just then, the roof of the pit opens and the dwarf captive sees the familiar face of a troll with only one tusk. He then sees three bodies being thrown into the pit with him. Two night elves and a human. They seemed familiar to the cursive dwarf.

'Blast me bagpipes! Ishty, is that you?' he asks excitedly

'Ugh,' groans Ishtvahn, pulling himself up, still in pain from the fall down into the hole, 'it's good to see you again Tanzil.' With the light shining down from the opened pit, the dwarf is revealed in his full glory. He had golden hair that came down his sides in plaits, like many of the dwarves from his village. Like almost every dwarf he bore a full beared, although a bit scraggy. His face was as twisted and scarred as the paladin he spoke to, only he had a much more serious wound which had claimed his left eye. His name was Tanzil the Lawbringer, and he was a dwarven warrior of the Lawbringer clan, a clan that had allied itself directly with the Argent Dawn, and who were sworn enemies of the undead scourge.

'Since you've decided to get us into this mess Ishtvahn, how do you propose we get out of here with this dirty dwarf?' queries Costanzus, arising from his stupor. Ishtvahn takes a minute to observe his surroundings. The walls had been smoothed down and packed hard; there was definitely no way to get a grip on them to climb out. He picked at the dirt and saw that behind the hard dried dirt, there was nice soft and damp soil.

'If I had a knife or a sword or something we could probably climb out,' he announced.

'Let me try,' said Amecylia. She stepped forward and removed a hidden dagger from inside her boot. She threw it as hard as she could into the wall about half way up.  
'Allioupe,' says Ishtvahn as he boosts her into the air. Amecylia grasps the dagger with ease. She then flicks her legs up, her amazing night elf flexibility enabling her to hook her feet into the holes in the cage. She removes the dagger from the wall and only her feet support her as she simply hangs from the cage. Again, she flicks up her lower body and slices at the roof, her knife easily cutting the bamboo. She finally grabs the sides of the hole she made in the bamboo cage-roof and pulls herself out of the hole to freedom.  
'Nice bloody work!' exclaims Tanzil, amazed at the night elf's athleticism.

Out in the daylight, a very surprised Troll on guard duty had just seen a night elf simply jump out of a hole that was 6 meters deep and embed her dagger into his face. Amecylia looks around and scouts out a rope. She ties the rope to a nearby tree and throws the end back into the whole where her companions were still captive. As soon as she lets go of the rope, an enraged revantusk troll swings a mace at her head. It is only her natural racial ability that allows her to dodge this attack. As the troll readies himself for another attack, Ishtvahn clambers out of the hole and delivers a swift kick to its chest, sending it flying backwards. Amecylia quickly runs to retrieve her dagger from the first troll's dead body, but is cut off by another two trolls. One of the trolls reveals himself as a dark shadow priest, as he morphs himself into a ghoulish shadow form.

'Aye lass, we need ta get our weapons or those trolls is gonna break our faces!' exclaims the dwarf.  
'Good idea my friend, but perhaps HOW we are going to accomplish this feat is the question,' replies Ishtvahn, struggling to hold the initial troll's mace back against him.  
'Give me a hand over here, dwarf!' yells Amecylia. Amecylia immediately sees the shadow priest as the highest threat, as the other troll is simply another warrior drone with a stone club. She simply calls upon the trees again to entangle the warrior with their roots, and then calls upon the power of the moon to strike the shadow priest with arcane damage.  
'Aye ye sissy, spells and magic aint the right way ta fight!' yells Tanzil, charging in on the shadow priest stunned by the fire of the moon. Although his unarmed combat skill is very low, Tanzil becomes enraged, fighting in a berserking stance to maximise his damage. However, the shadow priest had already encased himself in a holy shield, absorbing all of Tanzil's damage with ease. Amecylia sees this and begins to charge a spell of nature's wrath to cast on the priest, when the priest lets out an almighty physic scream, sending Tanzil and Amecylia running against their will. He then utters the shadow word of pain, cursing both of the hero's with unspeakable pain. With Amecylia's concentration broken, the troll warrior is easily able to break free from the grasp of the roots, and runs over to the still incapacitated Amecylia, holding his club up high. Just as he is about to bring his club down on her head, THWACK! The familiar sound of a burning arrow embeds itself into his head.  
'That's two times I've had to save someone's life in one day,' says Costanzus, hands still taut at his bow of searing arrows.

Across from the trio, Ishtvahn is still wrestling with the original troll. The troll recovers from Ishtvahn kick and reaches to pick up his mace. Ishtvahn is one step ahead of him and kicks the mace away. The troll snarls at Ishtvahn and tries to sweep Ishtvahn with his long lanky troll legs. Ishtvahn jumps backwards, but this gives the troll enough time to get to his feet. The troll lunges out at Ishtvahn with his fists, still clad with plate mail. Ishtvahn ducks the first attack, but the second one smacks him right in the cheek. He reels back from the impact, still standing but dazed from the blow. The troll draws a dagger from his belt and raises it to throw. Just as he is about to throw it, his arm is suddenly lopped off. He shrieks in pain and confusion, and then just as suddenly as his arm, a sword slices through his neck and kills the troll. Tanzil hops over the dead troll, brandishing his weapon of choice, his blessed high blade: The Quel'Serrar.

Tanzil had begun his quest to forge the Quel'Serrar when he found an old tome in the halls of the strange, ogre ridden dungeon of Dire Maul: Foror's Compendium of Dragon Slaying. He took the book to one of the night elves of Shen'Dellar who dwell within the Dire Maul Library and was told about the Quel'Serrar. For him to be able to forge this sword, he would have to slay Onyxia, daughter of the corrupted black dragon Deathwing, and queen of the black dragon flight. So he gathered a group of forty of the bravest warriors he could find, Ishtvahn and Costanzus included, and they set out to forge Tanzil's sword, and put an end to the black dragons terror. They did manage to successfully slay the dragon, and Tanzil was able to forge the blade using first her fire breath to heat it, and then tempering it in her blood.

In his other had, Tanzil held the draconian deflector. When Ishtvahn had ventured into black rock spire to slay Rend Blackhand, he had met Tanzil and Costanzus. Tanzil had been told by his cousin Nagi to investigate the spire and had lost his way in black rock mountain. Luckily Ishtvahn and his paladin squad had found him and allowed him to raid the spire with them. They discovered Costanzus deep within the spire amongst a pile of dead orcs. Apparently he had heard a rumour that the burning legion was somehow involved and had instantly rushed to black rock mountain, having at this stage already been on the quest to avenge his family from the cursed demons. While they were there, they discovered that the king of the black dragon flight, Onyxia's older brother Nefarian, was manipulating Rend. While they were unable to defeat Nefarian as he retreated into his hideout, the black wing lair, there were able to kill his General, Drakkisath. Tanzil obtained the draconian deflector upon slaying Drakkisath, taking the shield from the black dragon's dead claws.

Tanzil whips the blood off his sword and places it upon his back. It is a marvel the massive blade fits on his small dwarven body.

'Catch,' says Costanzus as he tosses the Blackhand Doomsaw back to its owner

'Thanks guys,' compliments Ishtvahn as he snatches the pole arm out of the air.  
'Come, the rest of our gear is back here,' Costanzus indicates a small troll hut, marked by the troll impaled on it's own spear in front of it. The troop gear up and assemble, looking to their leader for the next part in their mission.  
'Right, we're almost all ready, we're just missing one person, and I must say, much to Constanzus's dismay, that she resides in Ironforge,' Ishtvahn announces  
'Oh no, not her,' Costanzus sighs.  
'Sorry old buddy, but she's critical to this mission,' replies Ishtvahn  
'Well lads, the quickest way te get ta Ironforge is back on the griffin, we might as well head out now if we is ta get there by nightfall,' Tanzil says.

'Yes we have to hurry, we must make it to the plague lands and to Scholomance as quickly as possible to put an end to this demon,' replies Ishtvahn  
'Plague lands? Demon?' questions Tanzil

'I'll explain on the way, what's important now is that we move,' Ishtvahn says  
'I suppose I should ask who this fifth member is, but one: I'm sure you wont tell me, and two: it's been quite a rush in the way I've met the rest of you,' Amecylia says, wearily.

As the party heads out, they are unaware that while they were captured by a group of six trolls, there are only five corpses. A single troll rises out from the bushes, his fluoro green skin matching the wildlife perfectly.  
'The plague lands ey mon? Dun you be worrying dwarf, Reventusk trolls gonna have deir revenge,' the single-tusked troll schemes to himself. With a quick whistle he calls his raptor mount, and makes his way southeast of the hinterlands to the cursed lands of the scourge, the plague lands.

During the back to Ironforge, Amecylia brings her Griffon up next to Ishtvahn.

'Sir Ishtvahn?' she asks.

'Please, spare me the formalities, just call me Ishtvahn,' he replies, full of modesty

'Ishtvahn, then, it seems these party members all greatly respect you, you seem like such an amazing person,' she tells him

'Hmm really? I don't see people that respect me in my friends. I see mutual respect. I trust each of the members of this party with my life. As do I trust you, Fair Amecylia. I can only begin to imagine the hardships you must have encountered in your life, living under constant fear of Rasmord. I swear on my life that I shall protect you. As long as I draw breath, so shall you,' the noble paladin promises. Amecylia blushes with embarrassment

'Th-thank you!' she says, surprised. Amecylia had grown up most of her life in constant hiding, and training with various druids, it was really a hard life, and so she never had time for any relationships of sorts. Somehow, she felt something towards Ishtvahn. _Am I, am I falling in love with this human? _She asks herself. She then looks to her right to see that Ishtvahn had extended his arm out across the air towards her. She took his hand in her own, and they flew hand in hand above the air. She shivered when she felt his touch, and when she looked at him, she felt as if all would be well in her life. _I, I think I am! _She thought. She smiled at him as they flew into the horizon.

**Chapter 5:**

'Ay little lass, what will ye be having?' asks a barman to the stout gnome that had just entered his bar. The gnome says nothing, choosing instead to simply stare menacingly at the barman.

'Oooo kay then, just come ta me when you're a ready I guess,' the Ironforge barman says, rolling his eyes at the gnome. As the gnome walks through the bar, people cringe at the sight of her, for it is easy to tell that this gnome is a warlock. She is wearing a purple robe, decorated with skulls as shoulder pads, and a hood, which she had pulled over her face. From within the hood, her eyes glowed red with demonic energy. This is the traditional dreadmist raiment, garments given to warlocks the shady agents of the Burning Legion deemed worthy.

'Swine,' she calls out to the barman, breaking out of her stupor, 'Tell me where is Maldini Regorik, the reagents vendor. I believe she should have fulfilled my order of infernal stones by now.'

'Well I aint gonna be telling yoo with that attitude miss!' replies the barman angrily.

'You dare disrespect me! Do you have any idea who I am you fool! I will make you regret that,' yells the gnome warlock.

'It's a fight you want is it! Well you're gonna get one!' the barman yells as he pulls his axe out from under his counter and hops over it, charging at the gnome

'Fool,' is all the gnome utters, as she casts the spell of immolation, causing the barman to burst into flames

'Aiiiiieeeee!' screams the barman, dropping to the ground in pain

'That is what you get you foolish mortal,' the gnome says, 'Now I will end this!' She removes her sword from her belt, the Azuresong Mageblade, forged in the fires of molten core with the magical power of a hundred demon's souls. Just as she begins to bring the sword down, THWACK! A mace hits her in the back of the head and everything turns black.

'Wake up yoo little troublemaker,' comes a voice, piercing the darkness of the gnome's slumber. The gnome rises to her feet and shakes her head. As the darkness fades, she sees that she is looking into the eyes of none other than the king of Ironforge, Magni Bronzebeard.

'Myra, what're we gonna do with you?' the king asks. Myra just looks back at him.

'You know we only let ya stay ere in Ironforge cause of the great deeds you and your buddies did for tha alliance. But I'm afraid that if ya keep goin on like this, we've no choice but ta kick ya out lass,' the king informs Myra. Myra Skettlespouse, gnome warlock. During the raid to kill Onyxia, Myra had been accompanying our stories heroes. Myra had first made acquaintances with the rest of the group when she met the legendary dwarven paladin, Nagi Marzetta in the molten core four years ago. Seeking to improve the effect of her fire spells by blasting them on the highly fire resistant beasts of molten core, she stumbled across Nagi and his dwarven brothers attempting to kill the fire lord Barron Gheddon. Nagi instantly befriended Myra, and despite her dark brooding nature, she took an instant liking towards him. They worked together to slay Gheddon, and after his death, Nagi forged a blade for Myra out of a Core's hound tooth and a hundred of Myra's 'Soul Shards', shards which she had captured and stored the souls of demons. This sword came to be the Azuresong Mageblade.

After they left the Molten Core, with Nagi gripping Gheddon's half of the bindings of the wind seeker, Myra accompanied him back to his homeland. It was there she met Nagi's cousin, the troublesome, boisterous dwarf Tanzil. Myra and Nagi were now very much in love, and lived together in peace for some years. However, Nagi learned that an agent of the Burning Legion was after his half of the bindings of the wind seeker. Soon after this, Myra and Nagi found themselves in constant hiding, always moving from place to place as to not reveal their location to the legion. Nagi was becoming forever paranoid of the safety of his family and friends. He even sent his cousin and a band of dwarves to black rock mountain in order to investigate a rumour about the legion. There was nothing of the legion there, but perhaps he gained something more valuable when Tanzil returned with his new friends. Ishtvahn, being the noble paladin he was, vowed to defend the privacy of the dwarves and their powerful artefact. However, this all changed drastically when one day, again riding on a false rumour, Nagi met his downfall.

The queen of the black dragon flight, Onyxia the brood mother, had long been a thorn in the alliance's side. She had disguised herself as Lady Prestor, and had been residing in the city of Stormwind, mocking the foolishness of the easily tricked humans for too long. The high commander Morgan had discovered Onyxia, but fearing her rampaging the city, he decided instead to stalk her to her lair. The fiendish dragon made her nest in the Dust wallow Marsh, among the wrymbog and the dragon kin there. He had ordered Ishtvahn to gather an army and put a stop to her, before her corruption seeped through all of Stormwind. The first place Ishtvahn went was back to the Hinterlands, in order to find his most trusted soldiers. He enlisted the help of Tanzil, Myra and Nagi. Although Myra had sworn never again to be aided by the help of foul demonic magic, this particular case called for it, Onyxia was a very formidable enemy and a great balance of classes would be needed if they wanted any hope of slaying her. Ishtvahn also went to the blasted lands, to find Costanzus. The remaining members of their army were found in Stormwind. Ishtvahn put out a general call asking for volunteers and was overwhelmed by the amount of feedback. Paladins, warriors, mages, druids, even a handful of deceitful rouges raised their weapons for the alliance. However, as they got off the ship at dust wallow marsh, Nagi realised he was down to his last healing potion. He instructed his comrades to confront the beast and he would catch up later, after he had brewed some new potions. The rest of the army went on, pushing forwards to Onyxia's lair.

As Nagi rushed to catch up, a battered, bloody dwarf confronted him.

'Nagi!' it yelled 'I rushed here to find you, Rasmord, at the village in the hinterlands, quick we need help!'

'Blast it! I should go back to me mates and get em to help out!' he exclaimed

'No time for that!' urged the dwarf, 'We must go quickly before he finds the bindings!'

'Ah yes! Tha bindings. Lucky for us they is in a safe place. I bests go get to em before he can find out where they are,' says Nagi.

'Yes,' says the dwarf, with a small smile forming on his face 'Take me to the bindings.'

As Nagi returned to his village, it seemed he was in deed too late, for the scars of the battle with the burning legion demons had sunk deep into the dwarven village.

'Great Scots! Those poor souls. This is all me fault, me and those blasted bindings!' Nagi yells angrily

'Yes, the bindings,' says his dwarf companion, 'We have to check on them!'

Nagi entered his house and went straight to his bedroom. He removed a grand painting of his grandfather from the wall to reveal a seemingly blank space. He uttered a simple incarnation, something that Myra had taught him, a spell to conceal things, and the door of a safe simply appeared in the blank spot in the wall. He opened the safe to reveal the bindings in all their glory.

'Ha ha! I knew that stupid undead would never be able ta find it here!' Nagi mocks.

'Oh, but he did. Thanks to you, my good friend.' Nagi turns around just in time to witness the dwarf that had led him here morph his shape into that of the undead warlock Rasmord.

'I tortured so many of these pathetic dwarves and none of them knew where you had hidden it. You should have told them, it might have saved them a whole amount of pain,' seethes the warlock.

'You, monster,' rages Nagi, his eyes filled with hate. He reaches to draw his sword.

'I don't think so, you fool!' yells Rasmord as he casts a bolt of shadow energy at Nagi. The bolt hits him in his chest, blasting him backwards across the room.

'And now you die,' announces Rasmord, pulling a dagger from his robes and lunging it into Nagi's heart.

'Well,' he says, taking the bindings from their hiding place, 'That's one down, one to go! I just have to find where that fool of a druid hid the other half!'

Upon hearing of Nagi's death, Myra fell into a deep despair. Retreating from the ruined Dwarven mountain town, she made her home in Ironforge, in a small house provided to her by the king. She was never quite the same, and today, five years after that fateful incident; she has been known to delve herself back into her evil demonic magic. Tanzil, on the other hand, swore to protect his cousin's village until the day that he died. The proud dwarves rebuilt and repopulated after the attack, but they could never convince Myra to return.

'So?' Magni's voice pierces through Myra's reminiscence.

'I don't need your help,' she spits at him.

'Well then you can get your little kiester out of my sight! And dun you ever come back ta Ironforge again!' Magni yells authoritatively. The gnome picks herself up and walks out of the king's chambers, turning her back on the one last thing that was keeping her sane. The townsfolk whisper and stare as Myra continues her walk out of Ironforge, but she doesn't care, not anymore. As she reaches the gates to the great city, she sees a single man standing in her way. The sun is behind the man, casting his shadow down upon the gnome, as if challenging her to try and pass him. She squints up at the man through the sunlight, and feels the surprise come over her face as she recognizes him.

'You!' she exclaims.

'Myra,' replies Ishtvahn, 'Come back where you belong,'

'So what brings you to Ironforge?' she asks, refusing to be intimidated.

'Not just me, Myra,' comes the reply. Myra watches as whom she would consider her closest friends step out from behind the glinting form of Ishtvahn. She also notices a night elf female amongst the group.

'Who's the girl?' she asks.

'I'm Amecylia!' the night elf replies cheerfully, glad to see another female is going to join them.

'Charmed, I'm sure, but I was asking Ishtvahn,' Myra responds dryly. Amecylia's face falls.

'Why do we return here Ishtvahn? Surely we don't have need of a weak-minded warlock who chooses to delve into despicable magic's,' advises Costanzus, forever weary towards the gnome.

'Oh, the mighty hunter speaks does he? Why are you not in the blasted lands, wallowing in the self-pity of your failure?' taunts Myra.

'I've had enough of you gnome!' Costanzus loads an arrow and draws back on his bow.

'Just try me!' mocks the warlock as she begins to cast a summoning spell. Costanzus lets fly with his arrow, but Myra finishes her spell just in time. The hellish spawn of an Imp rises from the ground, catching Costanzus' arrow in its chest. A bolt of shadow magic launches from Myra's hands, making a beeline towards the elf hunter. Costanzus dodges out of the way, and drawing one of his axes from his side, charges at Myra. Myra's demonic ally moves to block Costanzus, but he hacks off the Imp's head with one swift movement. He moves in to finish his attack when…  
'ENOUGH!' bellows Ishtvahn. He strikes both Costanzus and Myra down with divine light, stunning them both. 'This is no time for quarrelling amongst ourselves. Myra, we believe we know the whereabouts of Rasmord, and this girl may be the key to defeating her. Her father was the keeper of the second half of the bindings of the wind seeker, and her and her village suffered the same fate as Nagi did. Costanzus, I know you don't appreciate her shadow magic, but we need to put our differences aside for now, this mission calls for it. Now you two shake hands and play nice ok?' scolds Ishtvahn, knocking some sense into the two.

'I'm sorry, gnome, I don't know what came over me,' Costanzus utters

'Me too, elf,' replies Myra. The two very forcefully shake hands, and agree to work together.


	2. Chapter 2

**PART 2**

**Chapter 6:**

As the party moves upwards from Ironforge on horseback, they soon reach the border of the Alterac Mountains. As they move further up, they notice a lot of alliance activity moving up the mountain from the alliance town of Southshore, in the foothills bellow. Tanzil stops a dwarf soldier rushing past.

'Aye lad! What's goin on round ere?' he enquires.  
'War brother! Those Frost wolf orc bastards think they can take Alterac valley from us! Well not on Storm pike's watch!' he replies patriotically.

'What's Alterac valley?' asks Amecylia, curious as to what is happening.

'It's a valley carved amongst the Alterac mountains. It is very rich in supplies and resources, and as such there is a constant power struggle between the Frost wolf orcs, and the Storm pike dwarves. Usually it is just small skirmishes over control of a mine or something, I've never seen this much activity. It looks like they want to end this struggle once and for all,' comes the response from Costanzus.

'Well whatever it is, we don't have time for it. We need to press on to the plague lands,' commands Ishtvahn. They continue their journey up through the mountains, ignoring the rush of alliance soldiers heading towards the entrance to Alterac Valley. As they reach the gateway to the plague lands, they are met with an alliance blockade.

'What's going on here? Who's in charge?' demands Ishtvahn.

'That would be me,' replies a tall human man, with fiery red hair cut in the traditional army 'crew-cut' and a neat goatee and moustache on his chin. He was dressed in plate mail, and he wore the tabard of the Stormpike, 'You can address me as Commander Karl Phillips.'

'What is the meaning of this blockade commander? We are on a mission from high commander Morgan of Stormwind,' informs Ishtvahn

'I don't care if you are on a mission from one of the sodding ancients, no-one passes through here until the horde have been cleared out of Alterac valley. A landslide has blocked off the pass and we simply can't spare the manpower to clear it,' the commander explains.

'Ach, that sure puts a big dent in our plans,' says Tanzil, 'what're we gonna do, o fearless leader?'

'I suppose there is nothing we can do until this landslide is cleared, and the only way that will happen is if the alliance can push the horde out of Alterac Valley. That makes it pretty obvious what we need to do next,' replies Ishtvahn.

'Aye,' agrees the dwarf.

'Well then commander, take us to Alterac Valley,' asks Ishtvahn.

**Chapter 7:**

'Tha thing you gotta know bout orcs is that they canna think too well. All muscle an no brain is all they are. But tha Frost wolf General Drek'Thar, he's a cunning bastard! Oi you lot! Listen in ta this! This is tha important part! Those orc bastards ave copied the great Vanndar Stormpike's ultimate defence strategy! So the first thin we gotta do is kill their captain of tha guard, Galvanger, all tha way in Iceblood garrison. Thas tha red li'l fort thing just bellow tha field of strife on tha map! Once he's outta tha way we can launch our full offensive. Now, our captain, tha lovely Balinda Stonehearth will be in the Stonehearth bunker not far from our assault on Iceblood, and she will be in charge of supplies and reinforcements on tha battlefield so whatever you do, don't let those horde bastards kill er! Oh an one more thing, our wing commanders can launch an offensive air strike, but only if ya can get enough enemy flesh to feed their birds, so while you're out their slashin ana hackin, make sure you let the designated, "flesh collectors" get in there and do their dirty work. Now, we got a very special group of people ere with us today, Ishtvahn an is brave party of adventurers! These guys is fairly respected by tha king, an they were part of the raid that killed that bastard Onyxia, so if u aint listenin to me or to another commander, u listenin to them! DO YOU UNDERSTAND YE FLEA RIDDEN MAGGOTS???' the loud, shouted battle plan of the Stormpike commander, Duffy, met the ears of our heroes, amongst the other Alliance recruits. While he was giving this speech, he kept indicating places on a map, which looked like this: 

http://content. do we do after we've defeated that filthy Galvanger?' asks a young human Mage

'You worry bout that when we get there sonny, for now lest give em hell! FOR THA ALLIANCE!!' yells the commander

'FOR THE ALLIANCE!!!' comes the return war cry from the crowd.

'Ow come I get stuck wif you, gnome?' Tanzil asks his companion, Myra.

'Well, Ishtvahn feels that Costanzus and I would rather kill each other than the horde, so he decided to put you with me to organize this ambush, you do know what to do don't you?'

'Course I do! Nottin ever gets past me! Just err, ye mind explaining the bit after everyone yelled 'for tha Alliance' again?' asks the absent-minded dwarf. Myra sighs and then begins to re-explain their leaders plan.  
'Ok, so the horde have this Iceblood garrison fairly well fortified, and the countless guards outside make it impenetrable to a full frontal assault, so the boss developed a most cunning plan. When he gives the signal, he will charge straight into the mob of horde guarding their general, and then, shielding himself from any harm with his divine magic, lead them back to the awaiting alliance army. He says his shield can only hold for about a minute, so I damn well hope he can run fast enough. This is where we come in, now PAY ATTENTION you foul-stinking mountain man. Once the guard at the front is gone, we will sneak in and occupy the inner guard. We can easily do the most damage in the party without getting too hurt, so this should be fairly simple. Once Galvanger is separated from his guard is where our new acquaintance Amecylia steps in. One of the perks of being a druid is the ability to shape shift, and fortunately Amecylia can shape shift into a panther, and use the panther's stealth to her advantage. She will ambush the clueless captain, and then lead him back outside, straight into Constanzus's waiting arrow. Do you understand!'

'Aight, so I jus hafte charge inta tha big garrison when Ishty leads all them guards away and just start… killin stuff?' enquires Tanzil

'Yes yes, that's the gist of it, now get ready!' Myra says, with good reason. From their hiding place amongst the snow-covered trees of the valley, they see Ishtvahn, a single glorious paladin walk solemnly up over the rise towards the eighty-something horde troops. The next scene is in somewhat comical contrast to his brave challenge. An orc points at Ishtvahn, yells something in orcish, and then the entire group starts sprinting towards Ishtvahn. Ishtvahn yells a noble incarnation, and becomes shielded in holy light. The light encasing Ishtvahn is magnificent; it simply deflects the arrows and spells fired at him from his attackers like rubber bands hitting a fan. As the mob reaches him, the last thing he does is let forth an almighty swing of his doomsaw, slicing the nearest, hapless orc in half, and then he takes off like one of the arrows being fired at him, bolting towards the hiding alliance army. The alliance army numbered only in the high thirties, so they were relying on the element of surprise to win this battle, and a little extra present from the gnomes. As Ishtvahn reached the center of the field of strife, his divine shield dissolved, and a flash of light fired off him, signalling the Alliance attack. Those crafty gnomes had covered the field in explosives, and triggered them as soon as the noble paladin gave his signal. KABLAM!! The explosions rocked the whole field, and even threw Tanzil and Myra to the ground several hundred feet away. It only took out about twenty or so of the unluckiest horde fighters, but that big boom was all the motivation the Alliance army needed to see to launch their attack. They came out from behind trees, rocks, and bushes to encircle the horde war machine. Tanzil watched the battle with glee; his fearless leader fighting alongside the commander, Duffy, and leading the Alliance recruits in their stand against the horde.

'Come on Tanzil! We have our part to do as well!' Myra snaps Tanzil out of his longing for battle

'Aight aight! Lets go kill us some horde bastards!!' he yells. Tanzil looks back over his shoulder as he enters the Iceblood garrison, and the last thing he sees of the battle is a Troll rogue stabbing a Night elf priest in the back, and then the Commander cutting the Troll down where he stood with his axe.

'OI YOU STOOPID STINKY ORC BASTARDS! YER MOTHERS IS ALL TOO-EADED OGRES!!' Tanzil yells as he charges into the garrison, trying to attract as much attention as possible

'You do know they have no idea what you are saying?' Myra asks

'O aye, that's what makes it so fun! THRALL LIKES TA WEAR WOMEN'S UNDERPANTIES!! I BEEN SEEN HIM! YA GOT A PROBLEM WIF DAT, BRING IT ON YE SISSIES!!' Tanzil continues his taunts unfazed. They seem to be effective, at least in attracting attention as the inner guard of the garrison immediately start charging through the halls, searching for the source of the disturbance.

'ROKH THAR!' a nearby orc spots the pair and runs haplessly towards them. Myra yells a spell at the warrior and he suddenly becomes paralysed with fear. Tanzil takes his chance and charges in on the stunned orc, cutting into the side of his neck with his massive Quel'Serrar, severing his head. An arrow flies through the air, but Tanzil skilfully catches it with his shield. Myra sees the perpetrator, a slender troll hunter with a long bow. The hunter makes the mistake of focusing on Tanzil as he loads his bow for another shot. Myra charges up a fire spell in her hands, instructing her imp companion to do the same. They launch simultaneous fireballs that intertwine amongst each other as they fly towards their target. The fireballs hit the troll, setting him alight. Myra finishes him off with a shadowy bolt of demonic energy. The troll collapses dead.

'KHAR THRALL!!' they hear a more authoritative voice yell from behind them. They turn to see a group of orc warriors, and bringing up the rear was an orc with greyer than normal skin who wore the battle markings of a horde captain

'That bastard mus be Galvanger Myra!' Tanzil points out

'Oh really? I couldn't tell,' Myra replies sarcastically

'Well, it be pretty easy ta tell, I mean, ee's got tha captin' markins' and such,' Tanzil replies innocently

'I was being sarcastic you dim witted ram lover. We need to keep his guards busy long enough to let Amecylia draw him out. I've got a plan, work with me,' Myra schemes. She raises her hands to the air and mutters more dark incarnations. All of a sudden, fire starts raining down from above, assaulting the ground around the pair.

'ARE YOO CRAZY WOMAN?? UR GONNA KILL US BOTH!!' Tanzil yells, clearly panicked.

'Relax, the fireballs wont hit us,' Myra calmly informs him. As the orc guards try to contemplate a way to attack the gnome and the dwarf, Galvanger's acute sense of hearing picks up the stealthy Amecylia sneaking in for the kill. Just as she raises her paw to swipe, Galvanger brings down his mace on her head. Amecylia squeals in pain, as her stealth is broken. Luckily, the sound of the falling fire blocks out her squeal from the still occupied guards. Galvanger raises his mace once more, and swings it down, only to hit air as Amecylia dashes to the entrance to the garrison. The orc, blind with rage towards the alliance, chases the druid.

Outside, Costanzus sits far up in a tree, having a perfect view of the battle taking place around him. From what he can see, the alliance seems to have the upper hand in the main fight, despite being vastly outnumbered, but, he knew it was only a matter of time before the horde recovered from the initial ambush and overwhelmed the brave troops. He only wished the members inside the garrison would hurry up and complete their tasks so that they can join in the fighting. At that moment, as if someone had answered his prayers, he saw the panther form of Amecylia, sprinting from the garrison. He loaded his faithful bow with a burning arrow and aimed it at the entrance to the garrison. Here he comes! The captain ran out of his sanctuary, chasing the bait. Like the skilled marksman he is, Costanzus let fly with his arrow, and heard it hit it's target with a satisfying **THUNK**. He picked up the horn next to him in the tree and gave it a long loud blow, a signal that his task was complete. As he jumped down from the tree, he heard the alliance cry of 'GALVANGER IS DEAD!' and what could only be their increased fighting intensity. As Costanzus hit the ground, Amecylia shifted back into her night elf form.

'I only get more and more amazed at your prowess as a hunter, Costanzus,' she compliments him

'Ahh, practice makes perfect my dear. However, I'm still no-where near as good as my father was,' he modestly replies.

'If your father was so good, why is he dead?' comes the squeaky yet brooding gnome voice of Myra as he and Tanzil walk from the garrison, slightly scorched in flame

'The fireballs wont hit us my eye,' Tanzil mutters to himself

'At least he fought to protect the ones that he loved, which I can barely say for you, little woman,' Costanzus snaps at Myra

'Why you…' Myra seethes as she begins to charge a shadow bolt in her hands. Amecylia, detecting the imminent conflict, decides to step in

'SAVE it you two! There is an army of horde behind us, let your aggression out on them, not each other,' she says as she physically steps between the aggressive pair.

'Fair enough,' says Myra, as she cancels her spell, 'the new girl saves you this time, Hunter' she sneers at him.

'OH BOY!' yells Tanzil as he wipes the soot from his armour 'I GETSTA KILL SUMMORE 'ORDIES!!!'

CLANG! CLANG! A particularly nasty orc warrior deflects Ishtvahn's mighty doomsaw. Wait, make that orc SHAMAN. Ishtvahn quickly learns the difference as the shaman shocks his body with elemental frost energy. He tries to swing his weapon up in order to attack once more, but the shaman's shock has made it near impossible to move. _This is it_, he thinks as the orc's two-handed axe rises. THWACK!! Just in the nick of time, a hand axe flies through the air and embeds itself into the orc's neck. As his opponent drops his weapon and squeals in pain, he turns to perceive his saviour. He sees the dwarven commander Duffy standing behind him, one hand empty, and the other toting an axe identical to the one the orc in front of him is wearing as a necklace.

'Many thanks commander!' Ishtvahn yells out

'There'll be time for that later lad! Finish tha job!!' the commander shouts back. With the shaman's concentration broken, Ishtvahn breaks free of the power of the frost shock, and in one swift movement, stabs his saw through the mail armour of his defenceless attacker and pieces his heart. As the orc falls to the ground, Ishtvahn pulls the axe from his neck and tosses it back to it's owner.

'Catch this, commander!' he calls. Just in time, it seems. The commander had turned his back on Ishtvahn, as was occupied by a massive Tauren warrior. The big bull-like creature was swinging a massive two-handed mace at Duffy; it was only his natural dwarven swiftness that allowed him to dodge. He turned as he heard Ishtvahn's call, and saw his axe's partner sailing through the air. He threw the axe that he held in his hand up at the Tauren's face. It hit the beast square in the nose, and he wailed in pain as he raised his hands to try and remove it. Duffy skilfully caught the axe thrown at him by the paladin, and with a quick spin, sliced through the Tauren's stomach with it. As the Tauren knelt over in pain, Duffy ended its pain by severing its head. He then removed his axe from its face, and swiftly jumped out of the way of a bolt of frost fired at him from a distanced undead mage. Ishtvahn observed his companion's peril, and with a sacred incarnation, he sears the filthy undead beast with holy light. He is quickly re-occupied by a new opponent, a sword and shield wielding troll warrior. As he duels with him, he feels Duffy coming closer to his back, quarrelling with his own new opponent: a berserking orc with twin daggers. The pair is now duelling back to back, desperately trying to keep the horde at bay. _We can't keep this up forever _Ishtvahn thinks, sensing the impending end. The suddenly, a ray of hope shines in to this darkened abyss of imminent doom. Costanzus sounds the horn; the signal that the Frost wolf Captain was dead. It offers little hope for him in his current situation though, exhausted from the battle that befell him, he was no match for the skilled troll. After a quick deflection, he leans back to catch his breath. The troll sees this opening, and thrusts his sword into a gap in his armour, near his shoulder. Ishtvahn cries out, first with pain, then with rage. His wounded arm rises into the air and casts a seal of righteousness, filling him with holy energy. With this short burst of power, he swings his doomsaw, using only his right arm, and literally cuts the troll in two. He falls to the ground in pain, and as he does, he witnesses the gory sight of an orc literally cutting through the disarmed commander behind him. The blood lusting orc sees the wounded paladin lying on the ground, and eyes crazed with joy, jumps in for the kill. Ishtvahn closes his eyes, but is awoken by a loud THWACK!! SZZZ! He opens them to see a burning arrow imbedded in the orc's head. He laughs, feebly, as he hears the voice of a night elf behind him,

'No matter how many times I do that, it never seems to get old,'

And then he falls unconscious

**Chapter 8:**

With Galvanger out of the way, and the re-enforcement of the rest of Ishtvahn's party, the small alliance ambush is slowly able to overpower the horde army. As they begin to move down the valley, drawing closer and closer to their goal of the Frost wolf main base, slicing through the small amounts of resistance that stood in their way, they are joined by new recruits. First the famous Storm pike ram-riders, the elite cavalry of the Alliance. Then, the before mentioned wing commanders, riding atop of their mighty griffons, joined the fray. Finally, as they closed in on Frost wolf keep, Drek'Thar's final fortress, Vanndar Stormpike himself rode in on his epic ram mount. Within hours, the two towers standing outside the fortress were burning, all of his guard, including his personal Elite had been slain, and Drek'Thar was the sole Horde soul left on the battlefield. The battle came to an eerie halt. Drek'Thar stood at the entrance to his fortress, yelling out to the jeering alliance crowd in perfect common:  
'DUEL ME VANNDAR. SHOW ME YOUR HONOUR!!'

In answer to his challenge, Vanndar Stormpike emerges from the crowd. Accompanying him were perhaps the four best soldiers on the battlefield that day, Tanzil, Amecylia, Myra and Costanzus. Ishtvahn had been taken back to the Dun Baldar base for medical treatment.

'Don't listen to him, general. If we all attack him at once, he will not stand a ghost of a chance,' Myra advises Vanndar.

'GAH! Lil' lass, aint u got NO idea of honour?' Tanzil criticizes.

'I do have to agree with Myra, it would be most advisable to all attack at once,' Amecylia adds.

'Sheese, shoulda known, what would bloody gnomes an' elves know 'bout HONOUR anyways?' Tanzil says, shaking his head. Costanzus opens his mouth to add something, no doubt supporting Tanzil, as it is the opposite of what Myra wants, but Vanndar raises his hand to silence the quarrel.

'You make good points girls,' the General replies, in his surprisingly well spoken common, quite different from the heavily accented versions most dwarves speak. He had fairly dark, almost black skin, which was a stark contrast from his wheat golden hair and beard. Encased in plate mail bearing the crest of the Stormpike guard, he looked like a tired and true warrior.  
'However, on the honour of my family, I must accept this duel. STAND BACK EVERYONE! UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES IS ANYONE TO AID ME IN THIS BATTLE! SHOULD I FALL, YOU WILL GRANT THIS ORC FREE PASSAGE OUT OF THE VALLEY, DO YOU UNDERSTAND??' he orders his troops. His order is met by worried muttering amongst the soldiers. He draws in his breath,

'I SAID DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!' he bellows.

'SIR, YES SIR!!!' the army roars back at him with patriotic vigour.

'Hmph,' Drek'Thar smirks at Vanndar, 'It all comes down to this now, hey Vanndar?'

'Do not address me by my first name, you filthy orc swine,' Vanndar replies, as he draws his weapon, a massive Katana blade, the sun scraper. He had reserved this weapon specifically for this battle. Drek'Thar raises his weapons of choice as Vanndar enters the crude duelling circle the alliance troops had created: Duel swords, one of them his famous 'Brutality Blade'. There is no time for idle chatter, or boring standoffs in this fight, as Vanndar immediately rushes in on the frost wolf general, slashing at him with his blade. Drek'Thar raises his swords in an X shape above his head to catch the blade, and he then flicks Vanndar backwards by deflecting the attack. Vanndar veers backwards slightly, but catches a hold of him self when he sees Drek'Thar leaning in to attack. He hops backwards and slices at the orc again. Drek'Thar sees this coming, and steps backwards, not quick enough, however, as the tip of Vanndar's long sharp Katana slices through the loose chain mail on his chest.

'That's quite a sharp sword you've got there, little dwarf,' Drek'Thar comments as he sees the damage the sword does. He dashes in on the leader of the Stormpike clan, unleashing quick successive slices with his twin swords. Vanndar struggles against Drek'Thar's continuative onslaught, but manages to parry all of the incoming attacks with his sword. Drek'Thar suddenly finishes his attack, and jumps back, leaving Vanndar slightly dazed at his sudden movements. Drek'Thar flings his brutality blade through the air, it shoots like a lightning bolt straight towards Vanndar. It hits its target, Vanndar's chest, covered in plate mail. Amazingly, the powerful orc had thrown the sword so hard it PEIRCED through the dwarf's protection. The force of the blow literally sends Vanndar sailing backwards, dropping his sword as he falls to the ground. Drek'Thar, wasting no time, runs over to the wounded general, kicks the katana out of the way and picks him up by the collar, raising his other sword above his head, preparing to bring it down on Vanndar's skull.

'I guess, in the end, you relied solely on your troops. While I commemorate your strategy skills, it seems in one on one combat, the Frost wolves will always win. You are inferior to me, little man,' Drek'Thar utters his final words to Vanndar. Vanndar, filled with desperation and hate, and with nothing else he can to do protect himself, **head butts** the enemy general as hard as he can. Drek'Thar reels back in pain, the force of the dwarf's head butt shattering his nose and knocking out many teeth. He drops his sword and covers his face with his hands, cringing in pain. Vanndar then, searching for a weapon, reaches down to his chest, and pulls out the brutality blade imbedded in his armour. Through the blood running down his face and in his eyes, he sees Drek'Thar still recoiling from his attack. He sees his opportunity and with an almighty dwarven roar, thrusts the blade through Drek'Thar's neck. The horde general drops to his knees, and with an almighty expression of surprise on his face, falls to the ground, dead.

Vanndar's victory is short lived, for he also collapses from his wound moments after killing his rival. Alliance priests immediately rush in, and comfort the Alterac hero with their healing magic. Vanndar is loaded on a stretcher, and escorted by our four heroes back to Dun Baldar, amid the cheers of the alliance army, still basking in the most glorious victory they had achieved.

**Several Hours Later:  
**'Errr, ye got any threes?'

'For the last time Tanzil we are NOT playing go fish, we are TRYING to play poker. I call and raise,'

'Bah! This game be too complicated, I'm out,'

'I'm out too, you're much too good at swindling people Myra,'

'Ow 'bout u Ammy? Can ye beat this woman?'  
'Erm, I think I can. I have three kings and two two's,'

'Blast it! For a night elf, you sure are cunning Amecylia!'

Ishtvahn stirs in his bed as he hears the voices of his friends playing poker around him. He opens his eyes and sits up.

'Oi fellas! The fearless one awakens!' Tanzil says as he notices Ishtvahn rise.

'What, what happened?' Ishtvahn asks, confused

'Ishtvahn!' Amecylia yells out in joy, she quickly runs over to him and embraces him in a hug, but becomes embarrassed and blushes when she notices everyone watching them.

'Well,' Costanzus says, still eying the embraced pair, 'Short story: we won.'

'By the light!' Ishtvahn exclaims 'Bloody well done!'

'We should be thanking you Ishtvahn, you and commander Duffy practically held back an entire horde army,' Myra tells him.

'Duffy, is he…' Ishtvahn starts

'Dead,' Tanzil finishes the sentence, 'We gave im a proper dwarven funeral n' stuff. And oh Ishty! Ye missed the best part! Vanndar went one on one with tha blasted horde general Drek'Thar, and 'e beat tha livin' daylights outta im! Course, e did get banged up a bit inna process.'

'Vanndar,' Ishtvahn asks, 'what about him? Is he ok?'

'Do I look ok?' comes a voice to Ishtvahn's right. Ishtvahn turns to see the commander, wrapped in bandages around his head and torso. He laughs.

'It was an honour to serve under you, Vanndar,' Ishtvahn commemorates the general.

'Please, the honour is all mine. That is quite an awesome fighting force of a party you have assembled there, Ishtvahn. Possibly some of the best warriors I've seen in my time,' Vanndar compliments

'Thank you sir,' Ishtvahn replies

'Please, please, it's Vanndar. Now, I seem to recall Karl telling me that you folks were trying to get past the landslide into the plague lands? It's one hell of a mess up there. However, now that the battle is won, I feel I owe you all a great debt. The pass will be cleaned up in a few days, rest here until then,' Vanndar informs them

'With all due respect, general, we don't HAVE a few days. We need to get through that pass as quickly as possible. I don't know if you've been informed of this, but we are chasing after the Burning Legion agent Rasmord,' Costanzus interjects.

'I am well aware of the situation, Costanzus. However, I'm afraid even with all my men working to clear the blockage, it is still a three day minimum task,' Vanndar says.

'Damn and blast!' curses Tanzil.

'Hmmm. I'm weary about telling you this, but there may be an alternative,' Vanndar reveals.

'Lets hear it,' says Ishtvahn

'An experimental teleportation unit. You've no doubt heard of the gnomish teleportation chambers between goblin cities such as booty bay and ever look right? Magni saw this technology, and decided it would be an excellent way to transport troops into battle. The only problem with the current technology is that one must be a skilled engineer in order to use it. Our own alliance engineers have been tinkering with the specifications, trying to develop an 'idiot version' of the teleporter that the average soldier can use. Since Alterac Valley is, or was, often a place that needed re-enforcements, they decided to build the first test teleporter here. You'll be happy to know that the second teleporter is currently in chill wind camp, an alliance town on the outskirts of the plague lands. They did this because they wanted to first test the new technology at short range, before going somewhere further away. I can offer you this route, however, this technology is yet to be tested, and while my engineers assure me that it works, I still have doubts. It is up to you, my friends, wait three days, or become guinea pigs,' Vanndar presents his ultimatum.

'The choice, is Amecylia's alone. My men and I will blindly follow her, whatever path she chooses. We all have our own reasons for wanting Rasmord dead, but Amecylia, you are the one that HE wants dead above all, and you, along with those bindings, may very well be the key to defeating him. Choose wisely,' Ishtvahn announces. Amecylia thinks, she thinks for a good five minutes.

'We take… the teleporter,' she replies.

'Oh joy! I knew she was gunna say that! Heh, ye better watch your back Rasmord, we're commin for ye!' exclaims Tanzil excitedly


End file.
